


And when the rain begins to fall...

by Illidria



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Wish-fic, but he's safe, mention of a Dog being mistreated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-05-07 00:53:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14659815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illidria/pseuds/Illidria
Summary: Scar did not hate dogs, not at all. But he just wasn’t a dog person, preferring cats. Though, in retrospect he should’ve known that being in love with a dog person would sooner rather than later force him to face the possibility of another kind of four-legged house-guest.





	And when the rain begins to fall...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [InkuisitivSkins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkuisitivSkins/gifts).



> Dylan, this was such a great idea :D  
> It was so much fun to write that one and I really hope you like it <3  
> Also, you’ll see it hints at more, but there’s this other family-fic I want to finish first *winks*  
> I hope you enjoy and happy reading :D
> 
> Cursive dialogue is supposed to be ishvalan

Camp 42 as it was called on their mission-plan, the hottest place Scar had been to yet.

The sun beating down mercilessly from early morning until nightfall, temperatures never falling during the day. No clouds broke up the relentless sunshine, and one wouldn’t even think about rain starting to fall here.

Instead, the land was the very definition of a red-hot desert. The only thing breaking up the sandy expanse a rock-formation in the distance, sedimentary layers rising into the sky in a slew of colours. A ritual place Scar knew, one he’d maybe would’ve set foot on as a monk, if his life had been a different one.

But alas, he did not think about it much, not anymore, busy with the tasks at hand.

The regions central point had been a monastery back in the day, the biggest and most important one in all of Ishval. You only were sent there when you were of age and several stages of your training completed. It was the place the local clerics sent their most spiritually inclined trainees, a place of enlightenment.

Now it was in ruins.

Scar walking through the hot sun, feeling like his skin was sizzling in the heat, wondering when he’d last wished for it to be cooler. Had it been when he’d first learned what snow was? Or when the fever of infection had gripped him as a kid, after he’d stepped on a rusty nail? Both incidents were decades old and the few other instances he could think of not much younger.

Tired of wondering though, tired of the heat, he stepped into the kitchen tent, the streets barren anyways. They’d not pitched their tents too close to the walls of the monastery, that would be sacrilege, but they were close by, readying everything to revitalize that area of his homeland soon. The plan was to get the monastery up and running again and the surrounding lands filled with the hardy people that hailed from this region.

Here life was in full swing, people eating, talking and escaping the sun. Not that it was cooler in here, but at least your skin would not burn.

Barely in, a shout greeted him.

_“She is afraid to go outside, Peacekeeper?”_

Naeem was a curious man, always wanting to know everything, the centre of all gossip. A smile on his face though, busy hands already putting a lid onto two trays without waiting for Scar’s answer.

_“I am quite sure that she is not afraid of anything, my friend. But she has burned twice already and seems to finally heed my advice to stay inside until the sun goes down.”_

Was handed the trays stacked on top of another, the man handing them over seeming a tad bit relieved.

_“Good thing that she’s not here to hear these words?”_

Scar lacked a hand to wave when leaving, them being full, but cocked his head at Naeem’s cheeky, if true, words.

_“She’ll feel it in her bones.”_

Heard his friend’s laughter when pushing open the tent-flap with his elbow, beginning the track through the camp. Rows upon rows of tents stretching to all sides, some bigger, some smaller. The marquees in which mission command was placed easy to spot, though on the streets, which meant sand with a lot of footprints on it, nobody was to be seen.

So instead of observing others, a pastime of his many luckily put past him, Scar thought about the things around him, the mountains in the distance drawing his gaze like a string.

Only those monks that were to be ordinated as priests were allowed to step foot on it. They had to climb it, take one of the many loose, small rocks from the top, having to pick one that they thought matched the colour of their soul best. And then would start the praying.

The priest-to-be had to stay on the highest point of the rocks, praying until rain started to fall. Sometimes, when Ishvala was sure of you, that only took minutes. But other times it took days, in some cases the monks never returned as priests, having given up, or never returning at all.

The stone they chose would be turned into a necklace, worked into a smooth shape and edged with gold from the southernmost region of Ishval. More than one monk had chosen a piece of bone from the many pieces up ahead and Scar’s father had often told him that it was never by mistake.

The rain these priests pleaded for was holy and was forbidden to fall on uncovered heads, he remembered from when he’d been a child.

And in this region, it had long ago fallen often. Many priests ordinated here, from all over their country. It had been a time when the mountains had shone much more with the colours hidden in the sediment, when the sun was merciless, but water and food plenty. Thought about the days he’d spent here with his family, he couldn’t have been older than seven. It had been…

Without thinking his feet had lead him towards their tent, yet he was still a good few rows away when he spotted _her_ , crouching and her hands reaching for something he could not see.

Of course only wearing lofty pants, sandals and a tank-top. Why would she care about another sunburn?

“ _Sangdil_ , are you trying to burn yourself?”

Hurried over, as far as the cluttering trays would allow, just in time to see her pull the tank over her head, revealing a black bandeau bra. She bundled something up with it, lifting it from the sand and inspecting the thing closely.

Her complete lack of any form of abashment, paired with fair skin and the ishvalan sun would be his downfall.

_“Are you out of your mind?”_

Olivier had never been bothered by his habit to switch to Ishvalan when agitated.

“I found something, look.”

Showed the bundle to him, something with pointy ears inside of it, at which he guessed it was a cat. Felt his love deepen then, even if he did not let it on, sure that she’d maybe heard the little thing, had not left the tent to spite him.

Sighed still, just for good measure.

“We should quickly get out of the sun.”

Olivier had blistered once during this visit here, when she’d waited in the line for the showers. Angry, water-filled and large blisters that had hurt more than she let on, that much he was sure of. Only the last few rows to their tent could be enough to burn her skin again, would…

“Stop worrying.”

Her gaze cool, eyebrows drawn, the little bundle held protectively in front of her chest. Their steps quick then, Scar feeling his own skin voice discomfort at the unrelenting sun, his stomach growling for food.

Olivier holding the tent-flap open and stepping inside after him, the signs of her having read on their mattress still evident, book open and blankets shoved away.

At night, the desert became violently cold in this region.

“Did somebody tell you of the poor thing?”

She shook her head, while Scar reached for a tin on the makeshift-table, settling behind her back. Screwed open the tin with the aloe-gel, not willing to take any chances with her freshly healed skin, starting to put on the lotion. Despite her tense shoulders she leaned into his touch.

“Heard it howl. First thought that some children were playing a game, but normally none are out at this time. And when the sound did not stop I went to look.”

“Without putting something on first?”

Was glad that she wore her hair in a bun on top of her head in this weather, able to peer over her shoulder when she carefully freed the kitten from the cloth of her top.

“You fear that I’ll be the reason for eternal damnation for some monk? And I thought I _already am_.” threw him a look over her shoulder at that, though his hands did not stop applying the lotion onto her skin, „But alas, it sounded urgent and I did not want to waste time. You told me that ten minutes are enough for something so little in this place after all.”

The little kitten now free of the blanket was grey, with huge, bat-like ears. A little tuft of hair on its forehead and a tail like a short, thin whip, clenched between its hind-legs. No fur to be seen, only this greyish skin. A rosy patch on its stomach when Olivier turned the little thing around to inspect it, both confirming boyhood with a glance and dehydration.

“That’s not a kitten!”

She looked at him while he put the tin away, like he’d grown a second head.

“My _Kotik_ can tell when somethings not a _Kotik_ , I’m proud.”

The sarcasm dripping from her voice, instead of angry making him smile.

“Did you find anything else when you lifted him up?”

Watched when she dipped an edge of her discarded top into the cat’s water bowl, wringing it out above the little dog’s jaws. After a bit of hesitation a tiny tongue darting out, catching as many droplets as it could.

“It was dug into the sand; do they normally do this? Maybe to protect themselves from the heat?”

Scar sat down next to her, their trays with food forgotten, the one cat that moved with him each time coming closer to inspect the newcomer.

Snowball sniffed the dog, tentatively, seeming not convinced. Olivier giving him more water, the little thing with each droplet becoming livelier. Scar watching his cat settle on the mattress on Olivier’s other side, seemingly having decided to not let the little dog out of its eyesight.

“I don’t know if they would do that normally, I only know those as temple dogs. They usually live with the monks in the monastery, keeping it clean from rodents and being seen as envoys of Ishvala.”

Olivier narrowing her eyes, the little dog, it couldn’t be more than a puppy, shakily standing on its four own legs with her pale hand as support.

“Why would someone then bury a dog that is linked to their god in the sand?”

Scar pointed at the little thing when it fell over after a few shaky steps, stomach exposed again.

“This pink spot of skin would be seen as a sign of imperfection.”

He just knew that she’d talk to the next priest that crossed her path about that, would at least try to make sure that something like this never happened again. Did not get the chance to explain that such dogs usually found homes amongst the community and were certainly not killed or harmed. Usually.

Yet, her next words surprised him.

“We’re keeping it!”

It sounded like a decision not to be disputed, though he knew that such did not exist between them.

“ _Sangdil,_ I’m not exactly a…”

“Dog person? Sheesh, I’m not a cat person and yet I live with your ever-fluctuating number of feline friends. I think you’ll manage.”

And that was it for the moment then, the shivering thing lifted up and securely settled on her crossed legs, while he finally situated cold plates of food in front of them.

The little dog seemed to stick its tongue out at him.

###

Olivier had named him moose, of all things.

After a few days of peril, the little dog by the resident doctor found to still be very young and seriously malnourished, it became clear that he would make it. As Scar felt, judging by the care Olivier offered. She fed him carefully and with patience, offered water and walks and after a few days of wariness, even Snowball had warmed up to the little, naked thing. His cat curling around it at night, keeping Moose warm, even playing with him in the afternoons.

Yet, Scar could not help himself. Found it hard to warm up to the little creature, so much more demanding than the animals he’d lodged before. Uglier too, at least in his opinion. The sight of the furless skin, the beady eyes, the bat-like ears…

Of course, he desperately wanted to pet him.

And that proved itself as a problem, because Moose wouldn’t let him. Scar of course not trying when Olivier was around, having channelled so much energy into telling her that keeping the dog here was out of question, that she should take him with her to Briggs when her vacation was over.

The glare he’d received for that still burning.

As such, he could only try when Olivier was out of the tent, which happened only when the sun started to set. And even then she more often than not took Moose with her, showing him the camp and getting him used to the world and the people in it. Scar proud though that the little guy seemed to take it all in stride.

“Watcha thinking about?”

He leaned back when her arms encircled him from behind, revelling in her embrace. The smell of her assaulting him, shampoo and cinnamon, aloe and sweat.

“That the days are long and hot and that we could do with some rain.”

Would not tell her that he’d been trying to lure Moose to the mattress he’d been sitting on, Olivier having been busy with drawing something.

“Naeem’s son is a good kid, so I think it won’t be long.”

Her voice close to his ear, her breath brushing over it, sending a shiver down his spine.

“A whole mountain to scale, praying in these temperatures. However strong his believes are, the trial is a hard one.”

His friend’s son had trained to become a priest in the slums, had spent his youth between makeshift huts and in extreme poverty. And now the kid was the first one chosen to take the ordination-trial upon their holiest of places.

A demonstration of the Ishvalans will to prevail.

“You told me that Ishvala never gives you a task too hard for you.”

Moose looking at them from a distance, having been the centre of discussion in the kitchen tent for a long while, Olivier having taken him with her more than once since he was fit enough.

“True.”

Enjoyed the silence with her, trying not to think about their heated discussion of the morning.

She’d again asked him if he could keep Moose here, with him, that Briggs was simply too cold for the dog. And Scar had refused, not because he hated the little guy, quite the contrary, but because he wasn’t sure that he could handle his demands. He wasn’t even able to touch him after all, the dog seemingly afraid of him, wary.

And maybe he’d worded it wrongly, trying to hide such insecurities.

Had told her that it was her dog and that she either took it with her or he would try to find a home for it. Which of course hadn’t flown with Olivier. At. All.

They’d parted after a few more heated words, as he had to head to his workstation, postponing further discussion.

“About this morning…”

Felt her shift slightly, though her arms did not leave his body.

“I don’t feel good with the thought of giving Moose to someone else. We don’t know who abandoned him yet after all.”

Olivier sounding exhausted, distraught. Honest. Scar had not seen it from this angle, had not thought about how something happening to the little guy again could be what was making her so anxious on the matter. With the cats she always was so much more relaxed after all, trusting him to find the best possible home for each one.

“Believe me Mira, I’m not happy with it either. But Moose is afraid of me.”

She leaned forward, looking at him from the side, their noses inches apart.

“Have you gone stupid?”

He wound out of her embrace, to turn around and face her. Took her in, sitting on the bed in a pair of pants she’d nicked from him and a tight-fitting tank-top that made him bless the dry heat of the region.

Could not help being exasperated though, his mouth hanging open.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Her smile betraying her words.

“ _Kotik_ , Moose isn’t afraid of you! He just doesn’t know how to approach you.”

Olivier’s words shutting him up, her hands around his wrists caressing the lines etched under his skin, his brain refusing to work.

Through the silence a sound reaching him, the sight of Olivier’s face scrunching up in concentration, eyes narrowing and mouth settling into a thin line.

“What’s that noise?”

Looked at him before getting up, walking barefoot through their tent and pulling the flap to the side.

“Love, come look at that.”

In a flash he did, following her when she stepped outside.

Rain was falling, small hard droplets hitting his arms where he’d rolled up the sleeves of his overcoat. Cool on his skin, refreshing. The sky above him having grown dark, clouds hanging thick and heavy in the sky.

People leaving their tents all around them, drawing up hoods or holding the flaps of their tents over their heads. Pulled the hood of his own coat up quickly, turning to search for Olivier, only then noticing that she’d walked ahead, her hands outstretched, face upturned to the sky.

Without thinking he unwound the sash from his hip and walked over to her, draping it over her head. Wound an arm around her waist, taking in her smile, almost childlike, felt one much like that stretch his own mouth when the raindrops hit his face.

And then, like he hadn’t just struggled to cover her head so it wouldn’t be touched by this rain, Moose came running from their tent. Disgruntled at Olivier so suddenly leaving it seemed, or simply fond of rain. With a head that needed covering too.

“ _Singdal_ , he…”

“Here,” and with a swift movement she lifted the small dog from the ground, “stuff him under your coat!”

And just like that he held Moose in his arm, the little guy fitting on his hand, coat draped over him.

The rain still falling hard, air cooling down swiftly with it, sand turning mushy beneath their feet and seeping into his sandals. Saw it protruding from between Olivier’s toes when they started to walk around, like seemingly the whole camp, revelling in the rain. Its meaning.

Her arm winding around his back and his around hers, a soft kiss pressed to his jawline. Moose relaxing on his hand, leaning against his chest. Scar looking at the dog, beady black eyes looking up at him. The skinny tail wagging.

People all around them looking of course, at them, the tiny dog, his families sash draped over Olivier’s head. Wondered how swift he should tell her what that meant and if she would be mad.

Other words instead escaping him.

“We’re gonna keep him.”

Looked at his love, his sash over her head, a smile on her face.

Feeling only happiness.

**Author's Note:**

> Sangdil means “merciless one” in hindi  
> Kotik " means “a little (male) cat" in Russian
> 
> I imagine Moose to look a lot like the Xoloitzcuintle, a naked breed of dog native to Mexico. I met some of those and they were really cute little guys, not at all looking creepy like some other naked breeds do. And their skin felt so silky! Also, they’re very nice and brave, with a pinch of vigilance, so good family-dogs…*coughs*
> 
> ###
> 
> Hey guys, this story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), whose goal is to improve communication between readers and authors. The goal of it is to make commenting easier for readers and to increase the feedback writers get. As such, I invite you to leave:
> 
> _Short comments_   
>  _Long comments_   
>  _Questions_   
>  _Constructive criticism_   
>  _Reader-reader interaction_   
>  _extra-kudos as <3_
> 
> I cherish all comments, weather they be long or short, even only one word makes me squeal with happiness after all. And if you’re seeing this fic ten years after I published it, don’t worry: Old or new, I’ll still love what you left me to read <3 I answer to all comment btw, though it sometimes takes me a day or two. Should you not want me to answer, just write _whisper_ in front of it.  
>  I thank you for reading this fic of mine through to the end. As I said, I appreciate all comments and kudos and should you want to get into direct contact with me [this is my tumblr](http://illidria.tumblr.com/). There you can get into discussions with me, or even send in wish-fics.  
> Happy reading and thank you <3


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